The year dawns bright

Sparkled
Delray Beach, FL, January 2011

About this photo: We're sharing our favorite photos of the year, and we hope you'll do the same. Just click here to get in on the year-end photographic nuttiness.

Part of me feels our nearly-obsessive devotion to date-based events is a little much. Birthdays, anniversaries and holidays put us on high alert to live up to expectations that simply can't be sustained in the real world. Everything's got to be perfect, everyone's got to be on their best behavior and every memory needs to be unblemished.

Reality dictates otherwise, as life is seldom as clear as the Nivea model's porcelain skin might suggest. We can airbrush, PhotoShop and edit until time immemorial, but underneath it all, reality has a crazy way of bleeding through.

Which brings me to this particular scene, shot in the rushed moments after the big ball dropped, when everyone gathered for the obligatory New Year's party represented the perfect kind of togetherness that made Bing Crosby's career what it was. But was it, really? I'll leave that for you to decide, and to ponder whether such perfection is even worth pursuing. I think the planet would be a happier place if everyday imperfection was considered more than good enough.

Your turn: I'm not a resolution kind of person. But I do want to know what you hope the new year brings. To you. To us all. What do you hope for?

Where he becomes part of something

Togetherness
London, ON, May 2011
It's quite a challenge picking your favorite photos out of the countless moments you've caught over the past year (more here). As I've sifted through my own admittedly virtual pile, I've asked myself what makes a great picture, anyway. Is it technical perfection? A tone or a feel that moves the viewer? A bit of both? Neither?

Truth is there is no one answer. What makes you like something - like pistachio ice cream, Adam Sandler movies or the Kenny Loggins/Michael Bolton Very Special Christmas Album - could very well make your identical twin, if you're lucky enough to have one, violently ill. There's no rhyme or reason to any of this, so we may as well just roll with it. Life's too short to spend overanalyzing.

That said, this one touched me because it marked a transition for our youngest son. I took this picture as his first-ever convention - a three-day event - wound down. Everyone was gathered on the front lawn, singing and speaking, leaders trying their best to leave the little ones with memories that would keep them connected and involved in their community.

I was struck by the way our son left the house a 10-year-old boy and came home having made connections he cherishes to this day. He grew during those three days, and no picture sums that up better in my mind than this one. It always stops me in my tracks when it flashes past in a slide show.

Your turn: What makes a picture significant to you?

Dinner is almost served

Empty. For now.
London, ON, April 2011

Some of my favorite pictures (please see here for more similarly-themed Thematic) from this past year are also the simplest. I've admitted many times that I like simple things, that my overwhelmed-by-life brain often needs to get away from it all by capturing and taking in stripped down, elemental scenes.

This particular photo is an excellent example, as it was taken in that quiet time before we had friends over for dinner, as the house bubbled with adults and kids catching up with each other, and the smells from the kitchen suggested we were in for quite a treat. It was a warm, happy moment, and one picture takes me right back. Powerful stuff, this photography thing.

Your turn: What's going to end up on this plate?

When you realize you voted for the wrong guy

"Instead of giving a politician the keys to the city, it might be better to change the locks."
Doug Larson

I live in a medium-sized burg about a two-hour drive away from the largest city in the country. I've vented plenty of bile about our leadership over the years, but our elected civic officials are seemingly godlike when compared to the folks currently running the show in Toronto.

Mayor Rob Ford, who ran for office on an oft-repeated promise to "stop the gravy train" has turned the city into something of a laughingstock. He's declared war on the Toronto Star, called the cops on one of Canada's top comediennes, been spotted driving (at least twice) with his handset (a no no in our parts) and has been accused of giving the finger to a passing motorist. No one admits ever having voted for the guy, yet there he sits, making a supposedly world class city seem decidedly less so.

The latest: cops being called multiple times to his house to deal with an ongoing series of domestic disputes (story here). I don't want to pile it on at a time when he and his wife, Renata, are clearly dealing with some very serious issues. But I am forced to question whether this kind of leadership is in the citizens' best interests, and whether it might make more sense for him to step aside so he can deal with more important issues, at home, than finding gravy and flipping the bird.

Your turn: Politicians who suck. Please discuss.

Eat a good breakfast

A good start
Delray Beach, FL, January 2011

About this photo: We're sharing our favorite photos of the year, and you can, too, by clicking here.

I used to be religious about breakfast, with at least a 20- or 30-minute block of time reserved to sit down at the kitchen table with something nominally nutritious. I'd take my time with it as I spread the newspaper out and gradually ease my way into the day.

Times have changed. I get up at different times every morning - sometimes psychotically and unpredictably early depending on deadlines, munchkins' choir schedules and the state of the dog. Oh, and the newspaper these days is impossibly thin, and barely worth reading. Carving out quiet time to eat and read has taken a bit of a back seat, so most mornings I get by with a quickly downed glass of juice and a thermal mug of tea that comes with me wherever I go.

I know that this is bad. Logically, I appreciate how important a good breakfast is to maintaining good health. Realistically, I'm just freakishly time-challenged, so this is the first thing to go.

I'm not one to make resolutions. Still, I know this is something I need to change. Opinions welcome.

Another Toronto Star Op-Ed...

Exciting times in my writer's world, as the Toronto Star has published my next op-ed piece (first one went live in October - blog entry here, direct link here.)

The latest article is entitled Life of tech companies is nasty, brutish and short, and it examines why things are seemingly worse in this sector than in virtually any other. It's accompanied by a piece of artwork by illustrator Charles Weiss. I think that's kinda neat, too, and am doing a bit of a happy dance at how it's all turned out.

The piece will be in the Thursday print edition of the paper, so if you're in Toronto and come across the dead tree edition, I'll be your pal if you can shoot/scan it and send it my way (carmilevy AT gmail DOT com). Heck, I'll be happy if you don't flame/troll me in the comments section.

Either way, happy reading.

Your turn: What should I write about next?

On dirty art

"Art washes away from the soul the dirt of everyday life."
Pablo Picasso

I did a neat thing with my wife today: We wandered through a few art galleries. We didn't have much of an agenda beyond spending the day together and reminding ourselves why days like today are so treasured.

Along the way, we learned about artists whose work literally turned our definition of "art" on its ear. And inspired us to return to our own admittedly pedestrian artistic pursuits with a little more vigor. Whoever we are and whatever we do, we've all got an artist's voice. And Picasso's words, which we literally bumped into as we exited the last gallery of the day, couldn't have been better composed or timed.

Your turn: What does art mean to you?

Thematic Photographic 177 - Your Favorites

There will come soft rains
London, ON, December 2011

I'm going to end the year and start the next one with a familiar theme - a simple request, really, for you all to dig into your archives from the past year and share your favorite pictures. If you loved it, we want to see it.

I realize that some pictures don't necessarily fit into the weekly ebb and flow of themes, so this is our collective chance to share the ones that may not have found the light of day otherwise.

Looking forward to seeing what you've all got!

Your turn: Please share one photo - or many photos - on your blog. Leave a comment here letting folks know where to find it. Visit other participants to share the photographic community goodness. Repeat as often as you wish, and feel free to bring a friend or two along. We'll stick with this particular theme for a little longer than the usual one-week deal, as I think we all have a backlog of favorites to share. Are you game? (Oops, almost forgot: Click here for more background on how Thematic works.)

Learning from your kids

I learned an important lesson from our kids today: Slow down. I've been burning the candle at both ends for so long that I think I had forgotten how important it can be to turn it all off every once in a while.

While I'm busy zinging from place to place, they're busy growing up, building foundations for whatever comes next. I'd be silly if I missed it because I was too occupied with life. There will always be more work, but there won't always be a little man who wants to play Crazy Eights.

Funny thing is they didn't have to say anything. It was the simplest of epiphanies, actually: We went out for breakfast. And we lingered for a while as the kids ate ice cream and laughed themselves silly. And I looked at my watch and realized time isn't doing me any favours, and we won't have limitless breakfasts like this to squander.

So I consciously enjoyed this one. And I'll enjoy whatever else comes along, even if it means rearranging the calendar a bit to accommodate the so-called real world. Who says what happens in their lives is any less real, anyway?

Your turn: How do you get the most out of the stuff - and the people - who matter most?

On birds, horses and happiness

"Did you ever see an unhappy horse? Did you ever see bird that had the blues? One reason why birds and horses are not unhappy is because they are not trying to impress other birds and horses."
Dale Carnegie

I grew up surrounded by folks who fretted over what they wore, what they drove, and how others would respond when they first pulled up to the curb and got out. Impressing everyone around them was the goal. Failing to do so was a disaster worthy of movie-of-the-week-like attention. Until, of course, movies of the week fell by the wayside.

Now, I presume, they just drink themselves silly when their Lada Niva Sport merits an indifferent shrug from the prom queen.

But here's the thing: Once everyone scatters from that curbside kill zone in front of the high school reunion - or whatever venue that serves as Judgement Central - you're still wearing whatever you were wearing, still driving whatever you pulled up in. And the prom queen and folks like her who passed judgement on you? They've moved on. Forgotten you exist once again, until the next time you pull up.

And it's up to you to live with the person you are. And until you learn to ignore the prom queens - who I'm betting are more miserable than you've ever imagined - and listen to your own voice instead, that whole happiness and self-contentment thing might remain out of reach.

Besides, the Lada Niva Sport is a seriously great vehicle to have when eight feet of snow lands on your driveway overnight. You could even pick up the prom queen on the way to work.

Your turn: How do you find inner happiness?

Beyond land's end

Lives over the water
Deerfield Beach, FL, December 2010

You never quite know what you'll end up with when you put your camera into your kid's hands and tell him to go to town. The pictures could end up blurry. The camera itself could end up irreversibly damaged by oompa loompas and beach sand. You could have to explain it all to your wife when you get back home.

But you'll never know if you don't give your munchkin that first opportunity. Like driving, first apartments and first relationships, you kind of have to hold your breath and let go. Of them, obviously, but also of your own parental need to control everything and keep them from experiencing anything remotely close to hurt.

Whatever happens next is up to them. Scary thought for some, I know, but a necessary step all the same. Because they'll never learn about the bumps and falls of life if we don't let go in the first place, don't give them the opportunity to experience it all first-hand, don't let go of the fear of them coming back with a bruise or two.

On this blustery afternoon, we found ourselves walking along a nearly deserted beach. And it just made sense to let our son carry the camera and see what he could see through its lens. In the end, there were no oompa loompas and no sad stories to tell my wife. What you see here is what he saw, a moment on a place that he's been connected to since he was little (here and here), a story of distant strangers all drawn to this place beyond the edge of the earth, for reasons that will forever remain unknown.

He's clearly got a sense of vision that's very much his own.

Your turn: How do you know when to let go?

Yahooligan journalism

Every once in a while, I like to grab a virtual lasso and corral some of the more notable writing I've done over the last little bit. Looking back at December, I realize it's been a bit of a busy month. I'm lucky enough to be a regular contributor to Yahoo! Canada, where most of my work is published on the Insight blog. If you want perspective on the business news of the day, this is a great place to start. Yes, I'm just a little biased. Sorry.

Here's a rundown of some recently published work:

• Real estate is really better here, but concerns remain (Dec 23)
• Uncertain outlook clouds 2012 rental housing expectations (Dec 15)
• Hard drives take a hard toll: Intel warning confirms shortage’s widening impact (Dec 12)
• Left Out Of MLSE Deal, Is Telus the Last Telecom Standing? (Dec 9)
• Teachers’ MLSE Sale Perfectly Timed (Dec 9)

Your turn: What should I write about next?

Journey to the centre of the universe

Time out
New York, NY, November 2009

About this photo: Thematic. Strangers. Here.

Let's get this out of the way first: I spelled the word, "centre", like a good Canadian should. There, I feel better. Let's continue.

It's hard to take a picture in Times Square without getting a stray human being caught in your composition. The place teems with people like the underside of a rock is covered with...well, you know. I almost got away with an empty shot on this bright Saturday morning (I wasn't in shul...shhh) until this guy sauntered into the sea of red chairs and plunked himself down.

Looking back at this now-two-year-old shot brings some neat things to mind:

• I now write for the organization featured in the billboard just above his head (latest piece here.)
• The NASDAQ reflection on the right? I'd been there before in another one of those surreal New York moments.
• I waited to meet one of my Budweiser friends. None showed up. Two years later, I'm beginning to doubt I have any friends at Budweiser

Whoever this guy is probably had no idea I was even there. I wonder if his ears are burning right about now.

Your turn: What's he thinking?

On life, defined

"Life is relationships; the rest is just details."
Gary Smalley

I kinda liked this one, especially given how much up-close-and-personal time we're all about to get over the next week or so. It's a perfect time to think about the connections we make along the way, and why they matter so much - to us, and to everyone whose lives we touch.

Whatever you're celebrating, may you do it surrounded by the folks who matter most. By Dr. Smalley's logic, that's all we need to worry about.

Your turn: A connection that mattered to you. Please discuss.

No longer strangers

Boys at play
London, ON, July 2011

About this photo: We're staring at strangers this week. What the heck am I talking about? Click here and all will be explained.

Our kids played soccer this summer, an experience they still talk about and look forward to repeating next year. As much as they revelled in the game itself, and as proud as we are that they took to it with such spirit and drive, I think they got a lot more out of the experience than that.

They connected with kids who started out as strangers to them, yet over the summer managed to coalesce into a tightly knit team. They made friends. They became part of something unique and something they were proud of. Our daughter, who started high school this year, got to know a few kids who are now her classmates. I have no doubt that the experience helped ease her entry into the often-frightening world of the Grade 9 student.

We may be exploring the sometimes distant world of strangers within this week's theme, but it took a summer on the pitch with our kids to teach me that not all strangers are destined to remain that way.

Your turn: Connecting with strangers. Please discuss.

On the true bastardized meaning of Christmas

"Too many people spend money they haven't earned, to buy things they don't want, to impress people they don't like."
Will Rogers

Why are we so concerned with what others think? I realize we all want to be accepted, to a certain extent. But somewhere along the way we seem to have lost the script.

Wouldn't it be neat if we spent less energy worrying what folks think of our cars, our clothes or the last tchatchkeh that we bought, and more time simply trying to be better people with what we've already got?

Yup, thought so.

Thematic Photographic 176 - Strangers among us

He walks alone
Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue, QC
July 2011

For a whole lot of reasons, some legal, some moral and some practical, I don't normally take pictures of strangers. Lots of photographers carry release forms with them in case they see a stranger doing something interesting. They'll then ask said stranger to sign said form if a photo is ultimately taken.

I can't be bothered. Which, I'm guessing, makes me a photo-criminal of the highest order and an enemy to all who simply want to walk the streets freely without fear of having their optical bits sucked through a lens, captured by an electronic sensor and recorded for all of time on a memory card.

To compensate for my apparent disregard for the privacy of others in public spaces, I do the following, in order:

1. Try to shoot away from strangers
2. If this proves impossible or impractical, I try to shoot them at angles or in ways that make identification difficult.
3. If this proves impossible or impractical, I make up some sort of excuse to assuage my guilt and add some humor to the situation. That way, if they ever happen across their picture online, they'll laugh so hard that they'll forget to sue me.

I haven't been sued. Yet. So I'm guessing it's working. So far, at least. Will my luck run out? Not sure. But for the next week, I'm hoping you'll join me on my troublemaking little quest.

Your turn: Take a picture of a stranger, any stranger. Post it to your blog. Leave a comment here letting folks know where to find it. Visit other participants to share the photographic joyousness of it all. Click here if you're new to Thematic Photographic. And for the love of all that is or once was Kodak, have fun with it. Because that's why we do this Thematic thing, right?

On waiting for the right things

"If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you'll never enjoy the sunshine."
Morris West

Home of the Big Gulp

Someone's thirsty
Minneapolis, MN, February 2011
[Please click here for more Thematic oneness]

I'm a huge fan of water towers, yet I don't think I really understand why. Maybe it's because they connect us to a time that no longer exists. Perhaps it's because of the way they loom like beacons over otherwise empty landscapes, signposts for long-distance travelers in a nearly forgotten age before GPS.

When my parents would pop us into the station wagon to visit family in faraway places, I remember staring out the window and watching for familiar landmarks along the way. Bridges, buildings, mountains, restaurants and, yes, water towers all told me just how many more miles we had to go, and whether I risked missing anything by nodding off. It's different today, as we drive with enough technology to calculate our position to the closest meter.

I'm not entirely convinced it's a better way to go, though, as there was a certain magic in the air when one of these things emerged from the murky sky and cast a shadow over our passing car, the faded name of some small town half-painted, half-baked on its rusting reservoir. Even if we were still far from our destination, or home, it made me feel just a little better to know where we were.

So when the adult me stares up at what some might view as a relic of a bygone era, I can't help but remember what it felt like so long ago. It's somewhat humbling. Comforting, too.

Your turn: What things, when you see them, trigger memories from long ago?

Cross the line

Borders
London, ON, April 2011

About this photo: Thematic. The one. Here.

We all have floors like this in our distant or not-so-distant past. Hardly a school exists without the kind of hard linoleum gym floor that jocks just love and the last-picked long since learned to loathe.

If you close your eyes just so, you can hear the squeaking of sneakers, the bouncing of balls, the too-often-ignored screams to pass the ball, shoot the puck and call the penalty on the other guy. Memory can be a powerful thing, no?